Please No Stress
by Neirthen
Summary: One country, seven days and three seriously stressed out mechs, Thailand may never be the same again. Slash.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I do not own Transformers, Hasbro does.

Warnings: This story contains slash, though nothing explicit and it has Transformers using holoforms (or something of the like), so if that kind of thing doesn't interest you, turn back now.

Also, I fail at writing accents, so I'm afraid you'll just have to use your imagination.

Pairings: Prowl/Jazz, Ironhide/Ratchet, Inferno/Red Alert

Chapter 1

"I am not stressed. I am not stressed. I AM NOT STRESSED!" screamed Ratchet, causing everyone in the medbay to stare at him.

"Whatever helps you sleep at night boss," First Aid responded sarcastically.

"Come on, Prowl," urged Jazz, "just think about it? Blue skies, sandy beaches, room service and no twins."

Prowl sighed in irritation and carefully laid his data pad down on his desk. "Jazz, listen very carefully. I…Don't…Do…Holidays."

"But you're stressed," Jazz pouted.

"I AM NOT STRESSED!"

"This cannot be healthy," Inferno observed, watching Red Alert obsessively check every screen in the security room.

"Neither is setting fires, Inferno," Red Alert huffed back, "so you do what you do and I'll do what I do."

"What? Stress?"

"For the ten thousandth time, I AM NOT STRESSED!"

"No, Ratchet." Optimus shook his head. "You may not kill the twins. They may be annoying, but we do have need of them."

"Can I at least turn them into toasters?"

"No."

"But my tools..."

"Well get them down off the medbay ceiling."

"And the oil?"

"I'll see that it gets cleaned up. You just go and have yourself some energon and don't kill the twins."

Grumbling, Ratchet exited Optimus' office, muttering about transferring the twins to Pluto.

"This is the way we kill the twins, kill the twins, kill the twins. This is the way we kill the twins so early in the morning," Ratchet sung softly, glowering at any mech who came to close and ignoring the strange looks he was receiving.

"There you are," Ratchet snapped when Red Alert appeared, yawning heavily. "You better not have pulled another all nighter again, because if you do a Prowl and collapse from exhaustion, I am not fixing you."

"I didn't pull another all nighter," Red Alert scowled. "Inferno dragged me to bed around three."

"Well good, because I've got enough on my hands with the medbay."

"I thought all the patients were discharged the other day." Red Alert gladly took a seat opposite to Ratchet.

"They were, but then Sideswipe and Sunstreaker decided to spread their own brand of goodwill and cheer around the place."

"What did they do?"

"I woke up this morning to find that they'd glued all my tools to the medbay ceiling and covered the floors in oil and to top it all off, Optimus won't let me kill, maim or turn them into toasters..."

"No, Jazz," snapped Prowl, storming into the commissary. "I do not want to look at holiday pamphlets."

"Just look at this one," Jazz implored. "It's a premium package."

"I said NO!"

"You are so stressed." Prowl shot Jazz a filthy look and stalked off to join Ratchet and Red Alert at their table.

"Morning, Sunshine," Ratchet smirked. It wasn't often one saw Prowl so agitated.

"Morning, Moonlight," Prowl replied sarcastically, taking a seat.

"Is Jazz doing the pamphlet thing again, Prowl?" Red Alert asked once Prowl had calmed down.

"He thinks I'm..."

"Stressed?" Ratchet finished. "I think I can relate."

"I think we all could," sighed Red Alert.

"Who needs a holiday anyway?" muttered Prowl. "It's enough of a circus around here already?"

"Can't argue with that," snorted Ratchet.

"I don't know, Jazz," Optimus commented, leaning back in his chair. "I don't think they'd appreciate the gesture."

"Prime, they need this," Jazz beseeched his leader. "Talk to Ironhide, Wheeljack, First Aid and Inferno. They all agree with me. Wheeljack's even got this nifty invention that allows Transformers to take the form and solidity of humans, and it works."

"I get what you're trying to do, Jazz, really I do, but do you think we could manage the Ark without them?"

"Of course we could. I mean, come on, how hard could it be?" Still Optimus hesitated.

"Pleeeaaassseee, Prime," Jazz all but whined. "I'll be forever in your debt."

"Alright, Jazz, just don't whine, you have my permission."

"And if they refuse?"

"Then it's an order."

"Oh yeah."

"You want us to what?" Prowl questioned, incredulity showing on his face plates.

"Go on a holiday to Thailand, in human form," Optimus explained patiently. "It'll be a chance to de-stress a little, away from reports, patients, security checks and most of all, Sideswipe and Sunstreaker." Prowl, Ratchet and Red Alert all looked at each other and then at Optimus and Jazz.

"No."

"Not a chance."

"Not going to happen."

"Is that your final answer?"

"Damn right it is," growled Ratchet.

"Very well then. I'll just order you to instead."

"Excuse me?" exclaimed Red Alert.

"Make no mistake..."

"You're going to Thailand," Jazz finished for Optimus, sounding rather smug as he did.

"Are you sure these aren't going to explode on us, Wheeljack?" Ratchet asked as Red Alert prodded the chunky wrist cuff in his hands suspiciously.

"I'm certain," Wheeljack assured his friend. "Perceptor, Jazz and I have all tested them."

"Can I just say that I think this is really bad idea," said Red Alert, glancing up at the surrounding bots.

"Just think, Red," Inferno rubbed Red Alert's shoulder soothingly, "this time tomorrow you'll be relaxing by a pool in Thailand."

"Somehow I'm not comforted."

"You'll love it, Prowl," Jazz promised, completely ignoring the tactician's murderous gaze.

"I doubt it."

"I admit, seven days without me will probably be a bit of a drag..."

"Just make sure the Ark is still standing when I get back and don't mess up my filing system."

"Come on, Ratch." Ironhide prodded the disgruntled medic. "You can't ignore me forever."

"Watch me."

"Ratchet, you know I love you..."

"Which is why you're shipping me off to Thailand for a week."

"Well into the wash racks you go," Wheeljack announced, cutting through Ironhide and Ratchet's conversation. "We've laid out cloth robes for you to wear once you've transformed."

"Oh joy," Ratchet sneered, stepping around Ironhide and into the wash racks. Prowl and Red Alert reluctantly followed him.

"They're going to freak when they see their forms," said Wheeljack, glancing over at Optimus.

"Probably," Optimus agreed, chuckling a little.

"I wonder what we'll look like," pondered Red Alert.

"As much as I hate to say it," sighed Prowl, "there's only one way to find out."

"I wonder if it's too late to refuse?" muttered Ratchet.

"We already tried that remember?" Red Alert frowned at Ratchet. "It didn't work then, and I'm sure it's not going to work now."

"Well...how bad can the brig be?"

"It has the twins in it," Prowl reminded him.

"Damn."

"Would you three hurry it up in there," yelled Jazz from the other side of the wash racks. "We haven't got all day."

"Zip it, Jazz," Ratchet yelled back.

"Let's just get this over with," groaned Prowl, rubbing his forehead, "but I will say this, if I ever get through this, Jazz won't be getting any interfaces for a month."

"I'll drink to that," mumbled Ratchet, offlining his optics. Prowl and Red Alert followed suit and then as one, the three of them clasped the cuffs around their wrists.

The first thing Prowl became aware of as he returned to himself was the vast size of the washracks. He realised, of course, that he was seeing the world from a human's perspective for the first time in his life. Then reality struck. He had breasts.

Prowl yanked on the robe that lay at his feet and tied it shut. He vaguely became aware of the long locks of red hair spilling over his shoulders and down his back. He then glanced down at his significantly smaller body and touched his lips. Prowl was distinctly female.

"Prowl?" a soft voice sounded from behind him. Prowl turned around and quickly averted his eyes from Red Alert's naked form.

"Put this on," he said, keeping his eyes fixed to the ceiling as he handed the security director a spare robe. Once Red Alert was fully covered, Prowl looked him over. The security director had a female form as well and red hair that fell around his shoulders.

From the ground, Ratchet groaned and sat up, placing a hand on his head. Prowl and Red Alert exchanged glances. Ratchet was female just like them, but his hair was black and curly, rather than red and straight.

Ratchet stared down at his hand, touched his hair again and then looked up at Prowl and Red Alert. Prowl handed him the last robe, and Ratchet pulled it on over his body

"This wasn't part of the plan," despaired Red Alert. Gritting his teeth, Ratchet got to his feet, bluntly addressing Prowl. "They had to have known."

Prowl stared at Ratchet for a moment before yelling out, "JAZZ!"

"Fix this," snarled Ratchet, craning his neck to look up at Wheeljack."

"Sorry, Ratchet." Wheeljack shrugged apologetically. "No can do, Prime and Jazz's orders."

"But we didn't agree to this," Red Alert cried out.

"Actually," snickered Jazz, "you did."

"What do you mean we did?" Prowl hissed, impatiently brushing his long hair out of his eyes.

"We said that you'd be going to Thailand as humans, but it was you who failed to specify the gender you wanted."

"Failed to specify," spluttered Ratchet. "You didn't tell us we had to."

"We didn't? My bad."

"Scratch one month," growled Prowl. "I'm making it two."


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

"Everything you'll need for the flight is in those satchels," Jazz's voice explained. He had elected to take Prowl, Ratchet and Red Alert to Tranquility Airport. From there they would fly to Los Angeles, then finally Thailand. "The black one is yours, Prowl," Jazz continued. "Ratchet, yours is the white one and, Red...well, I'm sure you can guess which is yours."

"The red one?" said Red Alert dryly.

"Your passports are in there, as are other essentials, money and the like. Prowl, your bag also has maps, hotel information and a communicator."

"What about luggage? Unless you expect us to wear these...clothes for seven days." Ratchet grimaced at the very thought.

"No, Ratchet, we don't." Jazz sounded amused. "Your suitcases will meet you at your hotel in Phuket."

"Let me guess," sighed Prowl, "you, Ironhide and Inferno picked out our clothes."

"How ever did you guess, Prowler?"

"We're doomed," groaned Red Alert, burying his head in his hands.

"Peony James." Prowl, standing amid the hustle and bustle of the airport, stared down at his passport, incredulity sounding in his voice. "You have got to be kidding me."

"Reagan White." Ratchet glared at his. "I am going to kill Ironhide."

"Roberta Chester." Red Alert winced. "That is definitely Inferno."

"Scratch what I said before," grumbled Ratchet, shoving his passport back in his bag. "I think I would prefer the brig, even if it does have the twins in it."

"Wouldn't we all?" Red Alert responded gloomily.

"Come on," said Prowl, "we'd better check in."

Prowl didn't know how women did it. Here he was, standing in front of the check-in counter, being checked out by the young man serving him. His feet were killing him due to the stilettos he was wearing, his long hair was annoying the hell out of him and his satchel was cutting into his shoulder.

"Hey, pal," growled Ratchet, looking rather threatening despite his size and apparent gender, "stop staring and get a move on, people are waiting here." The airport employee blushed heavily and hurriedly handed Prowl back his passport and ticket. Ducking out of line, Prowl stowed his things in his bag and buttoned his jacket right up to his chin.

"Insufferable man," huffed Ratchet, appearing beside Prowl a few minutes later. "He couldn't take his eyes off me either. A rather flustered Red Alert appeared soon after.

"Let's get out here," mumbled Prowl, hoisting his bag higher up on his shoulder.

"Couldn't agree more," said Ratchet.

"Thanks." Prowl accepted the three bottles of water and sandwich packets from the server and headed back to where Ratchet and Red Alert were sitting. "The food prices here are ridiculous," he frowned. "$4.00 for a bottle of water and $5.50 for a sandwich pack."

"What?" Ratchet choked, almost spitting his mouthful of water out in his surprise.

"It's a conspiracy," Red Alert muttered under his breath.

"For once, Red Alert," sighed Prowl, "you're probably right."

"Flight 516 to Los Angeles is now ready to board," a cool voice announced over the loud speaker two hours later. "Would passengers please proceed to gate ten immediately."

"That's us." Ratchet stood up. "Come on, Red, Prowl...Prowl?" He stared at Prowl who was rifling through his bag.

"You go ahead." Prowl shook his head. "I'll catch up with you."

"But..." Red Alert began, but Prowl dashed off before he could finish.

Ratchet scowled. "Whatever he's doing, he'd better hurry."

A few minutes later, Prowl joined Ratchet and Red Alert in line.

"What were you doing?" Ratchet asked, irritated. Prowl, not saying anything, held up the packet of hair ties he'd bought. "Hair ties?" Ratchet raised an eyebrow.

"There were none in my bag," Prowl explained, "and my hair was driving me up the wall in a way that not even the twins could."

Once they were comfortably seated on the plane, Prowl pulled his hair back into a ponytail.

"Very nice," snorted Ratchet. "You're becoming more and more like a female with every passing minute."

"Your hair only reaches your shoulders, Ratchet," Prowl responded calmly.

"Don't you mean Reagan, Peony?"

"I hope this things are safe." Red Alert prodded the seat in front of him, paying no attention to his friends.

Prowl tore his gaze away from Ratchet. "I've already looked it up, statistically speaking, aeroplanes are the safest way to travel."

"I'm meant to trust a bunch of statistics with my life?" exclaimed Red Alert, looking rather horrified at the prospect.

"Red...Roberta," hissed Ratchet. "you're causing a scene. I'm sure we'll be fine."

"That's just what they want you to think."

Prowl slumped back in his seat. "It's going to be a long week."

Half an hour after the plane had taken off, Prowl was at his wits end. Red Alert had discovered his fear of flying and Ratchet was looking very pale in the face while clutching a motion sickness bag in his hands. Prowl glanced at his watch and groaned. There were still a few hours left in their flight. He buried his face in his hands. "Primus help me."

"That was horrible," Red Alert declared as they entered Los Angeles Airport.

"Do we really have to fly to Thailand?" groaned Ratchet. "I feel like I'm going to be sick."

"I'm afraid so," Prowl responded, looking none too pleased about that fact himself.

"But the turbulence..."

"As Sunstreaker would say, suck it up."

"It's a fourteen hour flight."

"Which I can't do anything about. You'll just have to make do with the four hour transit we have until our plane takes off."

Two hours later, Prowl was looking through a Thailand travel booklet, Ratchet was sulking and Red Alert fiddling with the camera he'd found in his bag.

"I'm going to buy some chocolate," mumbled Ratchet. "If I'm going to be on a plane for fourteen hours, I'm going to need comfort food."

Prowl raised an eyebrow. "That is illogical, Ratch...Reagan. Eating will only serve to provoke your motion sickness even more than it already is. You would be better off having water and dry biscuits on board."

"Thank you, Mr Spock," snapped Ratchet, "but who's the medical practitioner here?"

"I was merely stating the facts."

Despite Prowl's advice, Ratchet returned to his seat ten minutes later, carrying three chocolate bars.

"Why are you so obsessed with cameras?" Ratchet asked Red Alert, offering him one.

"I am not obsessed." Red Alert glowered up at Ratchet, but accepted the bar. "You're the one who reads all those human medical texts."

"And Prowl is obsessed with human wars and suffering."

"I am not." Prowl frowned. "I am interested in history and most of humanity's history happens to be comprised of wars and suffering."

"Just like Cybertron." Ratchet shook his head and offered Prowl a chocolate bar.

"Just like Cybertron," Prowl agreed, accepting the treat with a forced smile.

True to Prowl's word, an hour into their flight to Bangkok, Ratchet was once again clutching a motion sickness bag to his chest. He was also forced to put his head between his knees every few minutes in an attempt to quell the nausea. Prowl had thus been forced to make an executive decision as a result.

Ratchet would sit in the aisle seat, where he would have easy access to the toilets, Red Alert would sit in the middle, due to his newly awakened fear of flying and Prowl, who had no issues except his comrades, would sit in the window seat.

"Drinks? Peanuts?" The flight attendant asked, she and her colleague stopping the food cart beside Prowl, Ratchet and Red Alert.

"No!" Ratchet burst out. "Food bad, very bad."

"Motion sickness," Prowl explained, smiling weakly. "H-She'll just have water and I'll have an orange juice."

"And you, Miss?" The attendant questioned Red Alert, who had his hands pressed over his eyes and refused to answer.

The woman glanced back at Prowl who just sighed. "She'll have what I'm having."

"You could at least try to act normal." Prowl frowned at Red Alert. The security director had finally removed his hands from his eyes and was peering suspiciously into his orange juice.

"Are you sure this is safe to drink?" he asked.

"For Primus' sake, Red Alert!" Prowl snapped. "It's orange juice, and if we do crash, hiding your eyes won't do you any good."

Prowl and Red Alert glared at each other until Ratchet broke through their angry silence.

"I feel..." Ratchet groaned, "really...ooh..." The medic's face drained of all colour and he went stark white.

"See?" an excited Red Alert shrieked. "He's dying."

"H-She is not..." Prowl began.

"I'm gonna be sick," Ratchet choked.

Ratchet tried to leap to his feet, but he forgot about his seat belt. He was thrust back into his chair and that was all it took.

"I'm gonna..." Ratchet's mouth opened and he gagged.

"NOOO!" Prowl cried, forgetting entirely about 'acting normal'. "Red Alert, do something?"

By now every passenger in the vicinity was focused on the trio, including the flight attendants.

"Do it in the bag, IN THE BAG!" Red Alert screamed, undoing his seat belt and scrambling into Prowl's lap, desperate to avoid what was about to come.

Another gag sounded from Ratchet before a stream of vomit erupted from his mouth, splattering the seat in front of him and Ratchet himself. A nasty silence followed as everyone gapped at the scene in a mixture of bewilderment and horror.

Several hours later, Prowl, Ratchet and Red Alert entered Bangkok airport, all looking relieved to be off the, as Red Alert put it, 'death trap'.

"That was disgusting." Prowl glared at Ratchet.

"I'm sorry," Ratchet, who was wearing a spare flight attendant's uniform, groaned. "I couldn't help it."

"I thought the whole idea of this vacation was to de-stress us?" Red Alert fretted. "I'm feeling more stressed than ever, and we still have to fly to Phuket."

"Don't remind me," Prowl requested darkly.

Two hours later, the three of them entered yet another airport, Phuket, thoroughly worn out.

"Let's just get to our hotel," said Prowl grumpily.

"Speaking of which," Ratchet paused in his steps, "how are we meant to get to our hotel?" Prowl froze beside him.

"Look," said Red Alert, about three hours later. They'd made it through customs (which had worsened Prowl's already bad mood and had Red Alert gushing complaints about the whole process). The outside world of Phuket was just a few metres away, with a Thai woman standing between them and freedom, holding up a big sign that said 'Peony James'.

"I guess that answers our earlier question," commented Ratchet, having returned to normal now that he was off the plane.

"Peony James, Reagan White, Roberta Chester?" the woman asked them as they drew nearer.

"Er yes," Prowl hesitated, "I'm...Peony. Who are you?"

"My name is Mae. I'm going to be transporting you and your friends to your hotel, along with several others who are staying where you are. Before we head out to the bus, could I see some ID."

Prowl exchanged bewildered looks with Ratchet and Red Alert and handed Mae his passport.

"That seems to be in order. Now, if you'll follow me, I'll take you to the bus."

"So, everyone on the bus will be staying at the same hotel?" Prowl asked, walking alongside Mae.

"The Le Meridien Phuket Beach Resort at Patong Beach, yes. I'm sure you and your friends will have a grand time there, Miss James."

"Yeah," muttered Red Alert, folding his arms, "sure."

"Wow!" Nathan let out a whistle when the three young girls joined the other tourist by the shuttle bus. He and his friends had been disappointed when they had seen the people who would be staying at their hotel with them. In addition to the three boys, there was a couple on their honeymoon and two families with too many kids. There had been no girls their age to flirt with, until now.

"I like the look of the redhead," said Carter.

"What?" Nathan snorted. "The one that looks like she's about to have a nervous breakdown?"

"Not her you moron, the other one."

"She's cute I guess, but I like the look of the black haired one personally."

"Well I don't think the first redhead is too bad." Simon grinned. "She looks like she could use a good lay and who better to give her one than me."

Nathan rolled his eyes. "Whatever you say, Simon."

"So what's on the agenda for tomorrow?" Ratchet asked Prowl. Everyone was seated comfortably on the bus, which was zipping its way to the Beach Resort. "Not much I hope."

"According to our itinerary, we can do whatever we want," Prowl answered, running his eyes down the sheet of paper, which detailed their day-to-day activities. "Sit by the pool, go to the beach, explore the surrounding shops. The only thing that's set in stone is the massage we have at three pm."

"That doesn't sound too bad," Ratchet admitted. "It's better than cleaning up all that oil, or fretting about Sideswipe's next prank."

"You do realise," Red Alert interrupted, "we have yet to open the suitcases that are apparently waiting for us in our rooms. Who knows what clothes Inferno, Ironhide and Jazz have picked out for us."

Ratchet shot Red Alert a filthy look. "Thanks, Red."

"Oh wow," Ratchet exclaimed when he, Prowl and Red Alert got their first glimpse of their hotel. It was surrounded by trees and the beach served as a backdrop. The hotel really looked like a tropical paradise resort.

"Impressive," Prowl conceded.

"I suppose so," Red Alert admitted reluctantly, "as long as we can actually swim."

Ratchet frowned. "I didn't think about that."

"I'm sure we'll be fine," Prowl assured his friends. "Prime and Jazz wouldn't have sent us somewhere like this if we couldn't swim in these bodies."

"And you're sure about that?" Red Alert demanded.

Prowl sighed. "I'll ask when I call them to say we arrived safely."

As soon as Prowl disembarked the bus, the sweltering heat him like a brick, just like it had when he'd exited the airport. The air was hot and humid; vastly different from Tranquility.

"We'll be needing that beach and pool." Ratchet rubbed his forehead. "Some lighter clothes would be good too, well, as long as Ironhide hasn't picked out anything that will make me look too much like a tramp."

"Jazz, Ironhide and Inferno would've have picked out clothes that they wouldn't mind seeing us in." said Prowl, looking thoughtful. "What would Ironhide like on you, Ratchet?"

Ratchet and Red Alert exchanged looks and answered simultaneously. "Nothing!"

Prowl rolled his eyes. "Something daring I would think, especially for Red Alert and I."

Red Alert wrinkled his nose. "Bikinis and miniskirts."

"Most likely."

"Now, this is the hotel lobby," Mae explained. "You can check in here. Well, I hope you enjoy your stay in Phuket. I'll see you again in a week when I come to pick you up and take you back to the airport."

"Peony James." The desk clerk typed Prowl's name into his computer and nodded. "You'll be staying in one of our superior ocean view rooms." The clerk handed Prowl three sets of key cards and gestured for one of the hotel employees. "You will be shown your room, where you luggage is waiting for you. We hope you enjoy your stay."

"Thank you." Prowl gave the clerk a brisk nod before he, Ratchet and Red Alert followed the other employee to their room.

"Nice." Ratchet grinned as they entered their room. "I could actually grow to like this."

"Suitcases." Red Alert reminded him promptly.

"I don't care. We have a nice room, our own private balcony, a view of the ocean..."

"There's one double bed and a single bed." Prowl interrupted with a frown. "Two of us are going to have to share."

"And that's a big deal why?" Ratchet raised an eyebrow.

"Well..." Prowl nodded at Red Alert.

"I do actually share a berth with Inferno, you know." Red Alert, guessing where Prowl was going, was indignant.

"Okay." Ratchet tapped his chin. "Red, you take the single bed and, Prowl, you and I can share the double."

"I just said..."

"Don't argue with me, Red." Ratchet glared over at Red Alert.

Red Alert huffed. "I'm going to check out my suitcase." He stomped over to the corner where their suitcases had been placed, and after correctly identifying which one was his, dragged it up onto his bed.

Prowl shot Ratchet a disapproving look and followed suit. Ratchet threw his hands up in the air in exasperation before grabbing his own suitcase.

"Why am I not surprised?" sighed Prowl, holding the black and white polka dotted bikini top up for Ratchet and Red Alert to see.

Ratchet dropped the little white skirt he was holding and burst into laughter. Prowl glowered at him, but Ratchet paid no heed, choking out, "polka dots," in between guffaws.

Red Alert immediately dug through his own suitcase and soon removed a plain pale green bikini. He didn't know whether to feel relieved or not.

Meanwhile, Ratchet had regained control of himself and was searching through his suitcase for his bathers, giggles sounding every now and then from his lips. He finally found a red bikini, patterned with white Hawaiian flowers.

Prowl dropped his bathers back into his case. "I'm going to call Prime and Jazz," he muttered, walking over to where he had dropped his bag.

"Don't forget to ask if we can swim." Red Alert held up a pale yellow summer dress and tilted his head thoughtfully.

"Oh I'll ask. In fact, I've got a few questions for those two, Jazz in particular."

"You do that." Ratchet dragged his suitcase off the bed and onto the floor. He then let out a yawn and collapsed on top of the covers. "I'm beat. We've travelled from Tranquility to Los Angeles, Los Angeles to Bangkok and then Bangkok to Phuket."

Red Alert stared at Ratchet. "I think I need to sit down."

"Well don't go to sleep," Prowl advised, dialling the number for the Ark, "or else you won't sleep tonight."

"You're such a kill joy you know," groaned Ratchet.


	3. Chapter 3

Ratchet raised a hand, adjusted the sunglasses resting on his face and let out a contented sigh. It didn't matter that he had a female holoform, or even that he was wearing a bikini. He was out in the Thailand sun, relaxing on a deck chair by the pool. He couldn't remember the last time he had felt so calm and at peace.

Prowl and Red Alert were beside him, resting on similar deck chairs, wearing bathers and sunglasses. They all had cool drinks in their hands, purchased from the bar.

Ratchet shut his eyes. He hated to admit it, but Optimus and Jazz had been right, a holiday was just what they had needed.

Ratchet took a sip of his drink. "This is the life," he sighed.

"As long as we don't get burnt," said Red Alert, letting his paranoia slip through.

"I doubt we will," said Prowl, lying unmoving, eyes closed behind his sunglasses. "We're covered with sunscreen, and we haven't gone swimming yet."

"We should still be wearing hats and over-shirts."

"Would you stop stressing?" groaned Ratchet, sitting up. "We're only in these bodies for a week, and Transformers can't get skin cancer."

"Keep your voice down," said Prowl. "People will hear you."

Ratchet huffed and swung his legs down onto the ground. "I'm going to get another drink," he said, wrapping his towel around his waist.

"You do that."

Nathan, Carter and Simon, dressed in singlets, board shorts and thongs, came to a halt near the bar. Nathan immediately craned his neck to get a look at the pool, his eyes moving over the crowds milling around and in it.

"So why are down here again?" asked Simon.

Nathan rolled his eyes skyward. "Because they're bound to be down here, Simon."

"How do you know? They could be at the beach, or out shopping? They could be anywhere in the hotel."

"Ah, Simon." Carter nudged his friend and pointed over to where Prowl, Ratchet and Red Alert were laying on deck chairs.

"You were saying?" Nathan asked smugly.

Simon looked at Nathan, then at Carter and finally at Prowl, Ratchet and Red Alert. "I still don't get it."

Nathan slapped a hand over his eyes. "How the hell did you get through high school?"

"Nathan." Carter prodded him in the back. "Look." Nathan and Simon soon noticed what Carter had. Ratchet was coming right at them.

"Oh damn." Nathan looked around. "I'll meet you guys by the pool."

"But..."

"Go."

Carter shook his head and grabbed Simon by the arm. He dragged him away from Nathan and towards the pool, ignoring his friend's protests.

Ratchet was getting closer, and Nathan hurried to intercept him. He paid no mind to his friends' retreating backs, focusing his attention solely on the medic. "Hi."

Ratchet, looking confused and slightly irritated, stared at him. "Hello."

Nathan grinned a goofy smile. "I'm Nathan. We were on the same bus yesterday."

Ratchet raised an eyebrow. "I remember." He made a move to step around him, but Nathan moved right with him.

"Aren't you going to tell me your name?"

"Reagan." Ratchet frowned at Nathan. "Can I go now?"

Nathan glanced behind him and then at the empty glass in Ratchet's hands. "Going to the bar, are you?"

"Yes."  
"What a coincidence, that happens to be just where I'm going."

Ratchet shot Nathan a withering look. "Really?"

Nathan ignored the open hostility and followed Ratchet to the bar like a puppy. "So, what brings you to Thailand?"

"I'm on holiday."

"Oh, me too."

Ratchet shot Nathan a very strange look and stepped up to the bar. "Yes." He placed his empty glass on the counter and opened his mouth to order, but Nathan beat him to it.

"Hi." Nathan's smile was suave as he addressed the bartender. "One light beer, please, and an apple Martini for the lady."

While the bartender prepared the drinks, Ratchet forced a smile and grabbed Nathan's arm. "What are you doing?"

"Buying you a drink."

Ratchet grimaced. "You're charming, but I can buy my own drinks. I can also pick my own drinks."

"Nonsense." Nathan turned back to the bar, missing the annoyed look that crossed Ratchet's face.

"Come on," said Carter to Simon, "we may as well go and say hi."

Simon perked up. "Okay."

He followed Carter through the crowd, every now and then dodging an excited child, until they reached the place where Prowl and Red Alert were sitting. Carter allowed his eyes to rove over Red Alert while Carter addressed Prowl. "Hi."

Prowl sat up and removed his sunglasses, placing them on top of his head. He tilted his head slightly. "Hello."

"I thought I recognised you," said Carter, feigning triumph, "you were on our bus yesterday. I'm Carter"

Prowl nodded slowly. "Peony." He glanced over at Red Alert, but the security director made no move to introduce himself. He too had sat up and taken off his sunglasses, but was too busy eyeing Simon, who seemed rather focused on his chest, to worry about introductions.

"This is Roberta," sighed Prowl, gesturing at Red Alert.

Carter jerked his head at Simon. "This is Simon." His sharp eyes found the piece of paper lying open beside Red Alert's drink. "Oh, is this your itinerary?"

Prowl shot Red Alert a warning look. "Yes, it is."

"Mind if I take a look?"

Red Alert stiffened, but Prowl's face betrayed nothing. "Go ahead."

Carter picked up the sheet and flopped down on Ratchet's deck chair, browsing through it quickly. "You haven't left much time for the night life," he joked.

Prowl raised an eyebrow. "We're here to see the sights, not indulge in the night life."

"Right." Carter nodded crazily. "Us too."

Simon tore his gaze away from Red Alert to shoot Carter an odd look. "But, Carter..." He broke off when Carter glowered at him.

"Peony, Roberta." said Ratchet, returning with Nathan. Both were bearing drinks, and Ratchet still looked disgruntled.

"Reagan," Prowl nodded primly at Ratchet, "this is Carter and Simon. They were on the bus with us yesterday."

Ratchet's jaw gave a twitch. "This is Nathan," he said stiffly. "He was on the bus too."

"We're friends," explained Carter.

Ratchet's eyes found Carter's. "You're in my seat," he said bluntly.

"Oh." Carter lurched to his feet. "Sorry."

Ratchet didn't say anything; he just settled back down and placed his drink off to the side.

"Well," said Nathan, bowing graciously, "we'll be off then. It was a pleasure meeting you all."

Ratchet snorted once the three were out of sight. "And I thought Sideswipe was bad."

Prowl glanced over at Ratchet. "I beg your pardon?"

"They were flirting with us, Prowl," snapped Ratchet, "surely you noticed?"

"Flirting?" Red Alert exclaimed, speaking at last and twisting around to face the other two. "But..."

"Nathan bought me a drink, and Carter and Simon seemed quite taken with you two."

Red Alert bit his lip. "Inferno won't like that."

"Neither would Ironhide, or Jazz for that matter."

"Well, what are we going to do about it?"

"Ignore it," Prowl interrupted. "We probably won't be seeing them much anyway."

"But what if they keep at it?"

A devious smirk crossed Ratchet's face. "Then we tell them we all have boyfriends, large ones."

"Sounds like a plan." Prowl popped his sunglasses back on and laid down.

Red Alert was just about to do the same when his eyes found the small table that stood beside his deckchair. "My itinerary," he cried, leaping to his feet. "They didn't give it back to me."

Then, before Prowl or Ratchet could say anything, Red Alert tore off in the direction Nathan, Carter and Simon had disappeared.

"Maybe they forgot," said Prowl, resting his weight on his elbows.

"If you believe that," said Ratchet dryly, "you're not as smart as I thought you were."

"Well done, Carter," said Nathan, clearly impressed, holding Red Alert's itinerary in his hands. "This tells us everything."

"What can I say," shrugged Carter. "I'm just that...what are you doing?" Nathan had taken a seat on his bed and was leaning over to pick up the phone receiver.

"Seeing if I can get us on some of these tours," said Nathan. "Hopefully there'll be space left."

Carter stared at Nathan. "Please tell me you're kidding."

Nathan raised an eyebrow. "I was under the impression that you liked...what was her name again?"

"Peony," growled Carter, "and I do, but changing our whole holiday; that's a little desperate, don't you think? I mean, we're talking about cruises, snorkelling and safaris..."

Nathan waved the itinerary around. "There's a theme park on here."

"That's not the point."

"Actually, I think it's kind of cool," piped up Simon. "I wanted to ride the elephants when we first started planning what we were going to do, but you guys said it was stupid."

"See?" Nathan grinned. "Simon agrees, but if you don't want to join us, Carter..."

"Alright," snapped Carter, "I'll come, but they're gonna suspect something."

"We'll charm them so they won't care," said Nathan, placing the phone against his ear.

Carter just groaned.

"They could be spies," Red Alert grumbled, taking a terse sip of his green tea.

"I highly doubt they're spies, Red," said Prowl.

"What other use would they have for my itinerary then?"

"They're probably going to use it to stalk us," said Ratchet, grimacing at the taste of his own tea.

Red Alert's eyes widened, and his hands clutched his tea cup till the knuckles went white.

"Please, Ratchet," sighed Prowl, prying the cup from Red Alert's hands. "Don't go there. You'll undo all the masseuse's hard work."


End file.
